


Like Moths To Fire ▲ 飞蛾扑火

by thesugar



Series: Life Theatre [1]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M, Romance, Short Story, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-07 14:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20311048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesugar/pseuds/thesugar
Summary: In which Nam Woohyun is a moth and his stranger, his fire.In which Woohyun falls in love with a stranger in a café.And in which Nam Woohyun is also the flame to his stranger’s moth.✎你 有没有过 奋不顾身 飞蛾扑火— 你 有没有过, 林俊杰





	1. The Café of Life

**Author's Note:**

> This was first posted on [AFF](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/518598/like-moths-to-fire) back in 2013.

✈ Woohyun

题记 ▲  
_Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into the labyrinth inside. _  
– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore  


I like cafés which are serene, calm and slow. They remind me of lakes that hide in deep forests in the English countryside. They are like deep valleys of the far north that are covered by snow and surrounded by coniferous trees all year round. They are mysterious, but yet approachable.  
  
But that is not to say that I do not like cafés which are bustling and fast paced. Because in a café that is serene and calm and slow, you would not want to break the silence; besides it seems rather uncivilised to do so. Those cafés are perfect for three-hour long afternoon tea. You could sit around and sip on Earl Grey tea and taste scones with jam and cream in silence. But they are not meant for conversation, because a proper lady or gentleman with education and etiquette would not break the silence in a place meant for silence.  
  
Maybe that is why I like cafés which are bustling with people and life just as much as I like placid cafés, if not more. Those ruffled cafes always smell of coffee and bacon and waffles. They are like the sound of the drums that beat behind and in harmony to the string orchestra. They remind one of New York City, of London, or Paris, of Tokyo, or of Singapore.  
  
Ruffled cafés are always best for people watching, or eavesdropping and maybe, even making new friends.  
  
I say that because for the past three months, I have been frequenting a certain café and engaging in deep conversations with a stranger whose name I had no idea, a stranger who I could only identify by face. It seemed like we had come into a consensus without even communicating that we should not ask about each other. He did not tell me his name; neither did he say why he was there every day. I had no way of knowing if he had been frequenting this place before I started coming, or if he was just wasting his days while on sabbatical leave like me for the past three months and also the next three. We never tell each other if we will turn up the next day, but we always end up turning up every weekday and seeing each other there. Maybe, we also have an unspoken consensus that we do not turn up on weekends.  
  
Now, this particular café that I am talking about is not exactly bustling with people and life the whole day, it is not like Starbucks or Coffee Bean or other chain coffee shops that surround this little café. It gets more crowded at lunch and dinner (and maybe on weekends but I am not really sure because I do not come on weekends) and the crowd thins out during working hours. But maybe this café is featured on a travel blog or famous for other reasons unknown to me because there are always tourists coming in and out of this place throughout the day – which makes it a perfect place for holding conversations.  
  
The first time we talked was the first day of the second week of my sabbatical leave, which was also the sixth day of frequenting the café. It was exceptionally full in the café that day and the only available seat that would not have me sitting with a tourist was the armchair that was across him. He was dressed in a pair of jeans shorts that reached his knees and a big white hoodie that had the word ‘space’ written across the front and which looked slightly oversized for him. The personal items he left on the low coffee table in between us, the way he dressed himself and even the way he styled his hair – it was coloured chestnut brown and lacked any styling product that I could possibly think of, making it rather fluffy, like a puppy’s fur – everything about him had caused me to mistake him to be a university student; a misconception that dissipated by the end of that day.  
  
I will never forget the way he talked about his life. He talked like an old man, but it was not old fashioned. It was just the way he talked that made you feel that he was wise and intelligent and knowledgeable. It was like he intentionally built an image of himself that would make a stranger think of him as less wise than he really was. I cannot remember all of what we talked about that day – because we had talked a lot these three months and my mind is fuzzy when it comes to the details – but there was one phrase he said which left a very strong impression on me. It was also probably the one line which made me want to go back to the café and meet him again the next morning.  
  
He said, “Perception is reality.”  
  
That was when I thought, his thoughts are much deeper than he lets on.

{ - - - }

그대를 만나고 그대의 머릿 결을 만질 수가 있어서  
_Because I met you and I could touch your head_  
그대를 만나고 그대와 마주보고 숨을 쉴 수 있어서  
_Because I met you and I could lock eyes and breathe with you_  
그대를 안고서 힘이 들면 눈물 흘릴 수가 있어서 다행이다  
_Because our hug gave me the strength to cry, I'm fortunate_  
그댈 아는 아름다운 세상이 여기 있어줘서  
_Because the beautiful world that you know is here_  
▲ 다행이다, 이적

The stranger usually arrives at the café before me, but there was one particular morning in our second month of conversations when I arrived before him. It particularly excited me, because I was about to see him arrive at the café which would most probably mean new insights into what kind of person this stranger was. It was exciting because after one month and more of conversing with this stranger, I was intrigued by him and want to know more about him and could not wait to understand him further.  
  
The stranger never appeared that day though. I waited until nine pm for hope that he might, for any reason, decide to change his habit but alas, it was all for vain.  
  
He appeared again the following day, again arriving at the café before me. That day, he looked exceptionally bright, probably the work of his white tee-shirt that was adorned with flying goose and gander and crème trousers that matched his crème coloured canvas shoes, making his skin look exceptionally fair. When I arrived, he smiled brightly at me, not his usual smile where he would thin his lips. That day, he smiled really happily and that was when I realized that his smile was really beautiful.  
  
With his positive mood, I contemplated if I should ask why he had not appeared the day before, but remembered the imagined unspoken consensus between us. He must have sensed my discomfort and awkwardness because he smiled and started talking.  
  
He said, “I love rock but there is one song that I will always love more than any other rock song in this world.”  
  
I was surprised but nonetheless happy that he was talking, for I loved conversations with him. I looked at him with a smile, expecting him to go on. He smiled back but kept his silence and after a while went back to reading his book. We never got back to this topic, not that day, not any day after that.  
  
Out of curiosity, when I got home, I looked up the concerts that happened the day before. For some reason, I was enthralled. I was intrigued. I was so determined to find out what was the song that the stranger loved over all other songs. He never said that he skipped out on our conversation to attend a concert, but somehow, I was quite certain that it must have been a concert.  
  
But needless to say, a search for a needle in a stack of hay would never yield any result.


	2. The Greatness of Breakups

✈ Woohyun

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity. _  
– F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Great Gatsby  


When I was still a young, freshly graduated executive, a manager at the company I worked at then encouraged me to view the world with open eyes and an open heart.  
  
She said, “I like listening to other people talk about their lives, even if it may seem like something that would only happen to me in the far future, because at some point in my life, I will most probably reach that stage too. If I listen to them talk about their experiences now, when the time comes for me to experience it, I will know what to do; or at the very least, I won’t feel so lost.”  
  
She also said, “I like listening to other people talk about their experiences because I may never get to experience it myself. Life is short and I can’t experience all the feelings in this world. But if I listen to them talk about their past, I will feel like I’ve experienced much more than a normal person, because I have gathered the experiences of myself and of the people around me; and these experiences are going to shape me as a person.”  
  
Later on, she left the company shortly after, and so did I, a few years later.  
  
It was a short period of time that I spent with her, but it completely changed the way I thought about the concept of ‘conversation’

> _Con•ver•sa•tion [kon-ver-sey-shuhn] /n/ an exchange of thoughts, information etc._

I never thought that my definition of ‘conversation’ would ever change again. But then again, how many things in this world which we thought would never change actually remained as it was?  
  
“Everything changes in this world,” was what the stranger told me.  
  
He said, “Everything changes in this world. Everything changes because everything is always moving. Even if you think you are stationary, your lack of movement is also a change.”  
  
“Why do you say that?” I asked him, intrigued by the way he thinks.  
  
He paused, seemingly in deep thought. That was when I first realised that he was wearing earrings – pretty dangling earrings on both ears; one ear hole on each ear.  
  
Then he said, “Because even though when you don’t change and your thoughts remain the same, the rest of the world changes and suddenly, you will find that your way of thinking has become less popular, or even obsolete. Your way of thinking could have been ‘fashionable’ at the start, but because you stayed constant, it ended up as ‘old-fashioned’. Isn’t that a form of change in itself?” A slight smile crept onto his face. That was when I noticed that his eyes smile along with his lips.  
  
“It is,” I said, nodding and taking a sip of my coffee. I never liked cappuccino, but the stranger insisted I tried their caramel cappuccino today.  
  
He had said, “The barista today is different from the one yesterday; he makes much better cappuccino than the barista from yesterday.”  
  
I was not completely bought over by that, but I figured that it would not hurt to try.  
  
“So, how do you find the cappuccino?” The stranger asked.  
  
“It’s…” I trailed off, unsure of how to describe what I felt about cappuccino.  
  
“Too foamy,” I said in my head.  
“Too foamy?” He said out loud.  
  
I looked up at him, surprised.  
  
“So, is this social intercourse?” He asked with a smile that was brighter than I had ever seen before.  
  
That was the first time I noticed that only did his eyes smile along with his lips, they form crescents that look better than the moon.  
  
On day ten of our conversations, I found a new definition for the word to describe our relationship.

> _Con•ver•sa•tion [kon-ver-sey-shuhn] /n/ social intercourse_

{ - - - }

Vous avez raison.  
_You are right._  
Il faut s'aimer, et puis il faut, se le dire,  
et puis, il faut se l’écrire.  
_You need to love, and talk about it, and write it down._  
Je vous aime, mon pauvre ange, vous le savez bien.  
_I love you, my dear angel, as you well know._  
▲ Sing it out of love, Tanya Chua

The first time I really felt like the stranger was starting to mean more than a stranger to me was around day twenty of our conversations; that was the day when we first started talking about our families.  
  
I had started the conversation by telling the stranger that I was unhappy because my hyung was heartbroken as he had broke up with his girlfriend of nine years. We had accepted her as a family member by then and it was heartbreaking to see them split up and suffer from the pain of breaking up.  
  
The stranger said, “Not too long ago, my noona found out that the man she thought she was dating for the past seven years had never thought of her as a girlfriend all along. She was but the third party to a couple’s relationship.”  
  
“It’s sad that our siblings have to end up with such situations,” I said in reply, still feeling sad about their split.  
  
But the stranger said, “I am happy. I am happy that she realized that the man was not the right person for her before she sank any further in this downward spiral called love.”  
  
“You should be happy too,” the stranger continued. “You should be happy that they realized that they are not right for each other before they step into that downward spiral called marriage.”  
  
“You sound like you don’t think too highly of love and marriage,” I said.  
  
He said, “No, I think highly of it. I think highly of love and marriage. But you must understand that not all love was created equal.  
  
When you finally accept that equality does not exist in love, you will learn to appreciate the greatness of breakups.”  
  
It was then that I truly realized what a queer person my stranger was. It was also then that I felt a pang of pain in my heart. It was then that I realized that my stranger was hiding a broken heart.


	3. The Distance Between Us

✈ Woohyun

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_I just want you to know that you’re very special and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has. _  
– Stephen Chbosky; The Perks of Being a Wallflower  


By day thirty of our conversations, it was probably not an exaggeration to say that I was completely smitten by the charms of my stranger. That was in the second month of my sabbatical leave and I simply thought we were amazing. We may not even engage in conversation with a family member once a day, so can you imagine engaging in deep conversation with the same stranger for twenty nine days?  
  
I was most certainly greatly intrigued by that, so whenever I met up with friends and they asked about how I was doing, I always talked about my stranger. I talked about our conversations, about the things I learned from my stranger, about the thoughts that my stranger had shared with me and how it is changing the way I think about certain things. I was aware of the change in me that my stranger was impacting, but I had never realised how drastic that change was. That was, until a best friend of more than a decade pointed out that I was almost unrecognisable from two months ago.  
  
“You smile a lot more lately, especially when you’re talking about that stranger,” the friend said on one occasion. “Had it been years ago, or even two months ago, I would have never imagined seeing you smile like that while talking about a stranger. What’s more, it’s a male stranger; the Nam Woohyun that I know would never talk about a guy like that.”  
  
“Are you sure you are not falling for your stranger?” The friend asked concernedly on another occasion.  
  
Was I falling for my stranger? It could be.  
  
To be quite honest, I had no idea what I felt towards my stranger, for it was a mixture of intrigue and interest. I enjoyed talking to my stranger; I enjoyed spending time with my stranger, even if it did not involve verbal conversations. I enjoyed observing my stranger, from how he wraps all his fingers but his pinky around his food when he eats, to the way you can tell whether or not he is in a good mood just from the way he smiles.  
  
“You are so pretty” were the words I wanted to tell him repeatedly. I wanted to give my stranger a beautiful name, a name that only I identified him by, a name that only exists in our world – one that would cease to exist when our world crumbles. Part of me was afraid he would be freaked out by me – because let's be honest, if some stranger confessed to you that he thought you were pretty, coupled with the fact that you are also a guy, is that not something that would creep you out? Yet at the same time, part of me felt that maybe, just maybe, my stranger might feel the same way as I do about him and maybe, just maybe, we still have a chance.  
  
It was around day thirty-four that I took the chance and told my stranger my thoughts. My stranger was in a good mood that day, for he was telling me about the stars that he saw at a farm while in Australia, his own eyes brighter than all the stars that I have ever seen in my life. I took my chance, though half-worried that if I scared him too much I would not get to see him again the next day.  
  
“I will call you ‘Beautiful’ from now on,” I told my stranger timidly.  
  
My stranger looked up from his book and gave me a smile, then went back to reading his book. I could not decide if he liked it or not, but he still turned up at the café the next day. My heart did a little dance when I saw him sitting at our usual spot in the café on day thirty-five, in the créme coloured armchair against the créme coloured walls. The bright yellowish white light that shone from the grey metal floor lamp stood like a knight beside my stranger and I was like the prince that was coming to see my princess.  
  
He never expressed his opinion about the name, so from then on I always referred to him as Beautiful. I called him that on day thirty-six of our conversations, I called him that on day thirty-eight of our conversations and I most certainly continued calling him Beautiful on day fifty-nine of our conversations.  
  
It is without doubt that I am a romantic person at heart. For if there was anything about our conversations that I could possibly love more than our exchange of thoughts, it was the ‘Good morning, Beautiful’ that I said without fail every morning from then on. It was a lovely thing to greet the person you love every morning, for I found that the smile he gave in return each morning gave me so much strength. That was when I felt that if I ever found myself a wife to settle down and get married, I would greet her with a pretty name every morning and give her a peck on her forehead. For it was a blessing to be able to express your love for someone and I would never want to lose that ability to express my love.

{ - - - }

손을 뻗어도  
_Even if I extend my hand_  
온 힘을 다해 뻗어도  
_Even if I extend it with all my strength_  
닿지 않아  
_I can't get to you_  
가까워진 듯해  
_Because I seemed to have gotten closer_  
설렌 맘에 불러봐도  
_Even if I called you with a fluttering heart_  
대답 없어 넌 절대로 닿을 수 없나봐  
_It seems like I can never get to you who did not answer_  
▲ 너와 나의 거리 (Selene 6.23), SHINee

Every relationship in this world has a turning point. Ours was day sixty of our conversations.  
  
That day, my beautiful stranger invited me on a slow stroll with him down Gwanganri Beach. That day, my beautiful stranger told me the saddest story I had ever heard in my life. It was a story of great sadness because that was a story about my stranger's own broken heart.  
  
But the overwhelming sadness that came crashing over me is a matter to be discussed much later, for when at the start, my stranger invited me to the great night stroll, I was most certainly over the moon.  
  
It was evening when we walked down Gwanganri Beach silently, somewhat appreciating the sunset and somewhat not. Gwanganri Beach was not as crowded as Haeundae Beach and there was barely anyone lying around on a beach on a cold October evening. It was quiet except for the sound of the waves softly crashing onto the beach and the cold autumn wind blowing landwards. We walked just along the coastline, him on my right where the water meets the beach. At some point, it seemed like he was somewhat unhappy at how the waves were destroying his navy blue canvas shoes, so he took off his shoes and let the seawater envelope his feet at times. I smiled and held his shoes for him.  
  
“Let's walk to the other end of the beach,” he said softly, hands stretched out as he tried to balance himself while walking on the water.  
  
“Sure,” I said with a smile. He probably did not know, but by that time, everything he said was to me the words of heaven; and even if he told me to run into the ocean and catch him a shark, I would gladly do it for him. “We can do everything you want to.”  
  
“Don't you have a life to go back too?” He asked. I could not read the expressions on his face, nor the tone of his voice. “Do you sometimes feel like you are spending too much time with me these three months?” He asked as our eyes met. I had already known, from the last three months, that he had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, but every time our eyes meet, I still feel like I fall in love once again. “Do you not like that I'm spending a lot of time with you?” I asked. “I like spending time with you,” I said with all sincerity.  
  
“I like it,” he said after some contemplation. “I like it, but I feel like you're neglecting other people in your life for me,” he said as he looked away.  
  
Silently I went over to hold his hand and despite his struggles to remove his hand from mine, I held firmly his hand firmly in mine and said, “But I like neglecting everyone else to spend time with you.” He stopped struggling and we held hands like this without another word as we walked down the beach.  
  
It was then that I decided that I loved taking slow strolls at night. It felt like if we walked slowly enough, time would stop for us. It felt like if we walked slowly enough, we could ignore the rest of the world and build a world of our own. We must have walked for at least an hour, for by the time we were nearing the end of the bridge, the sky was dark and the lights of Gwangan Bridge had long come on. When we came to a point where I could see the end of Gwangan Bridge, my beautiful stranger finally spoke up again.  
  
“I'm leaving,” he said softly, as we were about to reach the end of the beach. “I'm leaving Busan for Seoul tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter 4

✈ Woohyun

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this? _  
– Haruki Murakami; Norwegian Wood  


When I woke up the day after day sixty of our conversations, right in front of my face was my beautiful stranger. I smiled a little as I stared at my stranger who was sound asleep on the créme coloured leather beside me; I could not help but whisper a soft “Good morning, Beautiful”, something which I had wanted to do since a while ago.  
  
It felt somewhat surreal to lie side by side with my stranger like this, for prior to this our interaction had been limited to the four walls of that café.  
  
I am hesitant to call this day sixty-one of our conversations, for it is not a conversation within the four walls of that rustled café that led me to my beautiful stranger. Instead it's a conversation built out of silence in the morning of waking up in a car because we wanted to catch the sunrise together. Alas, neither of us woke up in time to watch the sunrise for when I woke up, rays of sunshine were already dancing on my stranger's smooth, white cheeks.  
  
The night before, my stranger told me about his story, a story that filled me with immense sadness. It might be that the story is actually not that sad, it might be just because it is a story about my stranger, about a person who has found his way into my heart, that I am filled with intense sadness. It made me wonder how he climbed out of that depressing downward spiral, for I knew if I were in his shoes, I might have just abandoned myself in that black hole, never to be seen by humans again.  
  
“He was the only person I trusted at that time,” my stranger had said when he talked about his story. “The person I trusted more than my parents or my sister or even myself.”  
  
“I once temporarily lost my sense of sight,” my stranger continued. “And he became my eyes, showered me with words that spoke about the colours of the world with such vivid explanation it was as if I could see again. Every day, I would listen to him speak and he would tell me about everything. Of the tales of the little boy who slept in the bed beside mine, of the gossips he heard from the nurses outside, of the food that was placed in front of me; it was like I never lost my own eyesight.”  
  
“When I found out that I might have a chance to see again, I was so excited. I wanted to see my guardian, the person who took care of me day and night like I was his lover. It was, to me, an amazing thing, for he loved me despite my handicap.”  
  
“His departure was sudden, for I had not seen it coming and I could not see it,” my stranger said. “Or maybe it was not that I had not seen it coming, for humans see with their hearts and not their eyes. I most certainly saw it coming; I merely chose to pretend like I couldn’t see.”  
  
“I finally saw the world again, but in doing so I missed the chance to see him and that left me feeling more crippled than when I could not see. Suddenly it felt like the colours of the world were not as vibrant and beautiful as they had looked when they were in my head.”  
  
“I wanted so badly to see him,” my stranger said with a soft sigh. “Maybe it was my desire to see him that blinded my heart’s ability to see, but even up till now I have no idea why he left before I could see. But I know that if at that time I let my heart do the guiding and not my eyes, maybe then, maybe then he would not have left me.”  
  
I pulled my stranger into a hug after that, giving him as much warmth as I could. It broke my heart to hear that my stranger once lost his sense of sight, and more than that, it broke my heart to know that someone once broke his heart. You have to understand, that this was the stranger that I loved with all my heart and who I cannot wait to give up everything I have if that would make him happy. This was the person that was so precious to me; how could I imagine that he once suffered?  
  
“I am going to Seoul tomorrow, I am leaving Busan for Seoul,” my stranger said once again when we were sitting on the beach, his ears on my chest, as if listening to the thumping of my heart would make him at ease. “Will you sit here and miss me? Or will you be like the hero in fairytales and come to Seoul to look for me?”  
  
“Of course I will go and find you. I have three more months into my sabbatical leave.”  
  
“But what about when the three months is up?”  
  
“Will you quit your job and come and look for me?” My stranger continued.  
  
“I don’t want you to quit your job for me,” he said, not letting me reply. “I want you to live your life the way you lived it before I appeared into your life.”  
  
“Do you ever tell your friends about me?” My stranger asked, only to continue once again without letting me speak. That was when I first realised that my stranger was a rather talkative person, vastly different from the persona that I was used to in that ruffled café.  
  
“Do your friends ever feel like I’m a bad influence on you? Because I think I am.”  
  
I chuckled, seemingly much to the surprise of my stranger, for he lifted his head and looked at me with a frown.  
  
“You talk too much,” I said and pulled him into a deep kiss.  
  
It does not matter whether or not you are a bad influence on me, because more than anything, I am willing to give up everything to be with you. If you ever one day decide that you want to push me into hell, I will willingly fall into that red world for you.

{ - - - }

친구라는 이름 어느새 미워진 이름  
_The title of a ‘friend’, the title that I started hating at some point_  
감추던 감정은 지금도 아픈 비밀의 기억일 뿐  
_The feelings that I was hiding, I can only remember the painful secret_  
우리 사인 정리할 수 없는 사진 보면 가슴 아린 Story  
_Our relationship is a heartbreaking story that cannot be defined by the photos_  
▲ Goodbye Summer, f(x) ft EXO

_I should have known. At that time, I should have known._  
I should have known that no matter how pretty the frost is, it is still the harbinger of winter.  
  
But why does it matter? For even if I had to pick all over again, I would still choose to fall in love with you, for it is a fact of nature that moths will always be attracted to the flowers of the fire.


	5. Cinq: Chasing after Happiness

☂ Sunggyu

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart and all they can do is stare blankly. _  
– F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Great Gatsby

_I love you._  
Even if I don’t say it, I love you.  
Even if you think I don’t, I love you.  
  
I love you so much that even when I knew my sky would come crashing down because I love you, I still love you.  
  
Even if it is the law of the universe that the shooting stars shatter and die and that I was doomed for death from the day that I fell in love in you, I would still love you.

{ - - - }

有个人 在哭泣 眼泪下成毛毛雨  
_Someone is crying, tears formed into drizzles_  
飘进我 房间里 好像要我仔细听  
_Flying into my room, as if wanting me to listen carefully_  
她说那些时光片段里  
_She said those time fragments_  
藏着属于自己的剧情  
_Had her own story plots hidden in it_  
故事里一定有一场感情戏  
_The story will definitely have a scene_  
能感动她的心  
_Which can touch her heart_  
▲ 毛毛雨, 关诗敏

When I was in high school, there was a period of time when I was really depressed. My grades were suffering because of the pressure I was under, something which hurt my pride greatly, for I was a straight A student all my life, until high school. But the thing about stress and school is that the more you stress yourself, the more you cannot do it.  
  
I did not yet know at that time that this is a universal law – the more you chase after something, the more you crave for it, the less likely you are going to get it and the harder you are going to fall.  
  
But I was still a child at that time and I did not know this.  
  
My teacher, a well-educated intelligent man of thirty-odd, tried to encourage me not to give up on myself. He said, “Sometimes you fail in life so that you can see the other paths which you would have otherwise missed out.”  
  
I did not understand it at that time, for I was a child and a child did not know any better. I did not manage to pick myself up and I ended up in a deeper bout of depression. Then I changed my environment, went to work in the service line and found out that there were a lot of people who were less well-off than me, not just in wealth, but also in intelligence, in knowledge, in chances. It was only then that I managed to climb back out of depression.  
  
I never saw my teacher after that, but his words left a great impression on me and I told myself that letting go was a way of moving forward.  
  
So when I found a job in Seoul, I decided that I would take it up, no matter how much I would miss Busan and the stranger at the café.  
  
This particular stranger at the café is someone I met a few months ago, at a small, cozy place near Gwanganri Beach. When I left Jeonju for Busan in search of a plaster to heal my broken heart, the café was the first comfort zone I found myself.  
  
Then my stranger came to the café, then my stranger started to talk to me. At some point in time, I must have started seeing him in a different light, for I one day realised that I had been entrusting him with my memories. That was the day when I realised that my stranger became my strength; what used to be a forced routine to go to my 'comfort zone' to heal my broken heart, suddenly became a motivation to visit the person with healing hands that could heal that heart.  
  
I was amazed by that change, for at that time I thought that after whatever had happened, my heart would build itself walls, it would hold itself in a fortress. But my stranger proved me wrong and he managed to walk into this heart.  
  
But it did not change the fact that the rational me was afraid, afraid that if I let him into my life the way I had once let someone else into my heart, I would end up being the person who is torn and broken. I was scared of failure, scared of repeating the mistakes of my parents and that fear forced me to close my heart off to others.  
  
My stranger tried to follow me to Seoul, but I politely rejected.  
  
I am sure I broke my stranger’s heart in the process, but it was always better to hurt at the start then at the end; it always felt worse after feelings have been poured into the fire and when the time is up, realize that those feelings cannot be removed from the fire.  
  
Besides, my stranger was a bright man, brighter than the sun's rays, or the lustre of diamonds and pearls. My stranger was a happy form of virus and I was certain that he would survive the departure.  
  
“You are an intelligent man,” I told my stranger as I stepped away from him, inching into the building where I stayed in Busan. It was the morning when I would leave Busan for Seoul and having spent the night in my stranger's car with the wind of the sea hypnotizing us to sleep, my stranger insisted that he sent me home. “You will survive without me like you did before,” I said and although my stranger did not seem convinced, he did not try to step forward towards me again.  
  
“At least tell me your name,” he spoke up just before I turned to enter the building.  
  
“Sunggyu. My name is Kim Sunggyu,” I told him, as I turned my back to him to push the building door open.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Kim Sunggyu. My name is Nam Woohyun,” I heard him say just as the building door closed behind me.  
  
“Nice to meet you too, Nam Woohyun.”  
  
_And thank you for healing my heart, Nam Woohyun._


	6. Six: How to Love, Hard to Love

☂ Sunggyu

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_If you're in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark. _  
– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

In the first month that I was in Seoul, I pretended. I put up a pretense – the bubbly front that I had so often showed to others, even though I was longing for Busan, for Jeonju, for my stranger. I did not see him, my healing pill, that month. In my second month in Seoul, I still did not see him. I told myself, I could survive well without him too. I tried my best.  
  
In the third month that I was in Seoul, I struggled. My pretense was slowly starting to fail and people were seeing through my pretense. In the fourth month that I was in Seoul, my colleagues said, “You seem to have changed. You’re different from when you first came. You seem so distant, so distracted.”  
  
In the fifth month, I often cried myself to sleep, thinking about my healing pill, longing to see him. I was in pain, but I had to keep up the pretense, that I was fine, that the distraction was temporary, that it was due to moving woes and longing for home. I pretended that I could live well, but by the sixth month I knew that I was tired of this, albeit my colleagues’ remarks about me slowly coming back.  
  
In the sixth month, I often found myself laughing at this thought. Me coming back? But what was ‘me’? I could barely define ‘me’, so who were they to define ‘me’ for me? I grew downwards in that downward spiral and one day in my seventh month, I officially hated the people around me.  
  
But deep down, I knew that more than anything, I hated myself most.  
  
I was never one to regret my actions, but clearly, I greatly regretted leaving Busan. I had always chose to believe that I was unafraid to step out of my comfort zone, but it was then that I realised how wrong I was.  
  
I never thought I would miss anyone as much as I missed Lee Howon, but unknowingly, my healing pill had entered my heart so much that I missed him more than anyone in the world.  
  
That was really when I first realised that I never loved Lee Howon the way I thought I did.  
That was also when I first realised how much I had fallen for my stranger.

{ - - - }

보고있기만해도 함께 시간을  
_I would like to just look at you_  
보내는 것만으로도  
_Just spend time with you_  
무언가 남지 않더라도 난 좋은데  
_I’m happy even if it doesn’t give us anything_  
Woo baby tell me, how to love  
닫힌 맘을 열어  
_Open up your closed heart_  
조금만 머릿속에 가득 찬 생각을 비워봐  
_Empty the thoughts filled in your head a little_  
How to love 상처가 남아도 괜찮아  
_How to love, it’s okay even if the scars remain_  
사랑하는 순간은 행복할테니까  
_Because we will be happy the moment we love_  
▲ How to Love, BEAST

Nine months into being in Seoul, my older sister also joined me in Seoul. Her company had transferred her to the main office in Seoul and our parents suggested that I go to live with her in the rented apartment provided by her company. I decided that I missed Jeonju enough to want to stay with her and moved in with her.  
  
Living with my sister was something that felt so familiar yet so foreign. I had already lived away from home for almost five years; even the years when I was going to university in Jeonju, I had chosen to live in the school dormitories. I had grown accustomed to living alone and it felt weird to be living with my sister again, although the homesick in me really appreciated the home food.  
  
“I feel like you’ve changed so much,” my sister said at dinner not long after we moved into her new apartment in Seoul. “The Sunggyu I know from childhood years is so different from the Sunggyu sitting opposite me now… The Sunggyu I used to know would never take the initiative to put vegetables into my bowl.” My sister smiled at me. “I like this change, you seem like a person with a warm heart now.”  
  
I did not acknowledge her statement, merely picked up another piece of meat with my chopsticks and put it in her bowl then went back to eating rice out of my own bowl.  
  
My sister was probably right, for when I was growing up, I was probably the most selfish person my family members ever knew. Every argument with my parents always ended with my parents shouting at me that I was selfish. As I grew up, I did gradually realised that indeed, I was a selfish person.  
  
My sister had always said that I was a prideful and proud person. I did not know at that time, but I often wrapped myself up in layers and layers of armour, with spikes decorating my armour. I was like a hedgehog and I curled up when I was afraid and hurt. I pricked and hurt others so that I would not be hurt. My confidence was my self-defence and my sister was one of the few people who had picked this fact up.  
  
Growing up, my sister had often tried to make me realise what kind of person I was. I eventually grew to realise it, but I had never really warmed up to her attempts to make me change. “It’s okay, you will eventually come to the point when you realise that your personality is what hurts you the most. Maybe then, you’ll eventually learn to give up this personality,” she often said.  
  
At that time, I greatly hated her for saying it, partly in denial and partly because I had problems with identifying myself. I was self-critical and seldom found nice words to describe myself. The only me I knew was the self-critical, prideful and prickly me. The only me that I knew of was someone with a horrible personality and nothing good to talk about. Can you then see how devastating and crushing it would have been to me if I lost my horrible personality? What would I be then? I would probably cease to exist.  
  
With that thought, I never learnt to change.  
  
The changing point was probably when I got into an accident and a blood clot caused me to temporarily lose my sense of sight. It was my first year of university and I was a medical student with the ROTC programme. My grades did not allow me to enter medical school, but six months into my first year of university, I lucked out and landed myself a place in the ROTC programme and as my high school was affiliated to the university, the professors eventually allowed me to transfer into medical school. But a traffic accident at the junction just outside school changed all these for me. I lost many things, including my best friend and ability to serve the army; and in turn, my place at the ROTC programme and medical school.  
  
My temporary loss of sight was timely, for I was devastated and did not want to face anyone or talk to anyone. I shunned my parents, my sister, my friends. I refused to take my medicines, believing that I was better off dead with my inability to take care of myself and my dreams shattered. I starved myself, I avoided people, I broke the hearts of the ones who loved me.  
  
But Lee Howon came along.  
  
He was my psychologist, but most of the time he acted like he was my guardian. It was beyond his job requirements, but he said he did not want to see a young man waste his youth away. He took care of me on a daily basis and always came to see me when he was done with his rounds. He would force me to take my three meals and if he could have his way, he would force me to have tea-breaks and supper too. I was happy to have him around with me, for he often spoke of things around me with such vivid explanations, it was as if I never lost my sense of sight. He encouraged me, to try something different when I recovered. “You will learn how to realise how privileged you really are,” he said. He reminded me of my teacher in high school, the one who taught me to pull myself out of depression.  
  
I found myself being a much better person while he was with me. I learned to share things with first and foremost, him, and later, he taught me to share my things with other people too – the nurses, the other patients in the wards, their family members.  
  
Half a year was not a very long time, but it was long enough for me to slowly find joy in being the better person. It was also long enough for me, and maybe the people around me, to realise that I liked Lee Howon. He must have realised it too, because after I regained my sense of sight, I never saw Lee Howon around again.


	7. Sept: Christmas Day

☂ Sunggyu

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets. _  
– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

In my tenth month of working in Seoul, I was worn out and badly needed a break, an escape away from the suffocating work and the people around me. I chose to go to Da Nang, a city in central Vietnam which was not a popular holiday destination for Koreans.  
  
It was a resort that was located along the stretch of beach that faced the South China Sea. It was cold, although nothing like the winters of Jeonju or Busan or Seoul. Still the wind blew towards the land from the sea and if you stood close enough to the sea and lost your concentration, for a fleeting moment it might feel similar enough to the winter of Busan.  
  
To be very honest, I barely left the resort. On my first day of being there, I spent the whole day at the patio of my villa reading a book. The patio was by the beach and when the wind blew, it reminded me of sitting by Busan beaches in winter. I liked that feeling. On my second day of being there, I spent yet another day on the patio of my villa, listening to music. When the wind blew, it reminded me of the family holidays we used to take in Yeosu and Jeju before 1997. Again, I liked that feeling.  
  
In fact, I liked it so much that by day three, I was unwilling to leave my patio had it not been for the fact that before I left, my sister had specifically requested that I go to the neighbouring town to get her something.  
  
This is probably when I should say that for the first time in ten months, I met Nam Woohyun again, in a foreign land. If I could, I would like to say that my re-encounter with Nam Woohyun was an astonishing moment, but it really was not.  
  
We did not spot each other from the other end of the street and walk towards each other like in a melodrama. It was just a chance meeting at the hotel lobby, when we were waiting for a bus that would take us to the neighbouring town, that I saw Nam Woohyun again after ten months. It was so unromantic even by my standards, but it still made my heart pound with excitement all the same. Even as I recall it now, I can feel the blood rushing to my ears, my cheeks and my brain the same way it did when I saw him once again.  
  
I was clearly surprised to see him and even as he walked towards me casually and snaked his arm around my waist, I never said anything, merely stared at him without words. At some point in time, he must have found the situation so absurd that he started laughing, but my head was in a blank and even when we got on the bus and he sat beside me like it was the most reasonable thing to do, I still had not said a word.  
  
I had dreamed of our re-encounter over and over again. On certain days, I would wake up with a scenario playing in my head, hoping that I would meet him that day in the way I had expected. When the day did not play out as I wished, it became just another uneventful day. On other days, I would wake up from a dream, having met him in the most absurd of scenarios in my dream. I would then go on for the rest of the day thinking about him, hoping to meet him in even the most absurd situations.  
  
But this is probably what they mean about fate, that when you least expect it, what you yearn for would come to you.

{ - - - }

혹시 내 잠결에 다가와있진 않을까  
_Just in case you might come while I’m sleeping_  
하며 All night 밤새 All night 하얗게 지새 맞이한걸  
_So I was in a white daze all night_  
Just like the Christmas day 손꼽아 기다리던  
_Just like the Christmas day that I eagerly waited for_  
Just like the Christmas day oh! 널 생각하면  
_Just like the Christmas day oh! when I think of you_  
그때 그 시절 어린애처럼 마냥 들뜨곤 해  
_Like a child back in those days, I am so excited_  
You’re just like Christmas day  
▲ Christmas Day, EXO

Meeting Nam Woohyun was unexpected. In all my dreams and daydreams I had never imagined myself sitting opposite him in a bar in a foreign land. The sun was still up and it was probably too early to be drinking but both of us still had a bottle of beer sitting in front of us.  
  
‘Red Lantern’ was the name of the bar that we were sitting at when we got to the neighbouring town. ‘Red Lantern’, a name that sounded so pretentious, like it would be associated to lots of pubs and bars around the world, like it would be associated with countless books and films – and it was so fitting that we were sitting at a pretentious location, pretending like we were ex-lovers who met again but are clearly not over each other.  
  
“Sunggyu…” Nam Woohyun said unexpectedly when we were both sitting in silence, basking in the sunlight that shone down on us. “Sunggyu… can I call you that?”  
  
“Yes,” I replied and smiled to myself slightly, somewhat mocking myself for my foolishness. We barely even knew what to call each other, yet for months, I missed and pined for this stranger. At the same time, he felt so close to home; was it because we were both strangers in a foreign place or was it because I had been pouring my heart out to this stranger for three months?  
  
Nam Woohyun smiled at my reply but did not say anything else and we settled into silence again. It made me wonder how we used to be able to hold conversations the way we did. Was it the fact that we now know each other’s name that made it so awkward between us? Or was it because we had not seen each other for a while and just before we parted ways, we pretty much confessed to each other? Or maybe it was because we were now in a foreign land, we were uncomfortable with our environment-  
  
“Don’t overthink things,” Nam Woohyun said out of nowhere. “You probably don’t know it but you’re frowning right now,” he said, as he got up and put his hand on my forehead, attempting to smooth out my frowning eyebrows. “You look so much better when you don’t look sad, you look so charming when you smile… I missed your smiling face, your cresent eyes, your upturned lips… I missed your voice, the genuine happiness in your voice, the excitement in your voice and even the sorrowful voice when you talked about the person in your heart. You probably have no idea how much I missed you,” Nam Woohyun said.  
  
“I know,” I heard myself saying, interrupting Nam Woohyun. He looked surprised and I wanted to hold his hand. But I missed him so much and I was so embarrassed about it that all I could do was to look down and stare at my shoes. “I know that you missed me… and I missed you too,” I said with as much courage and effort as I could muster. After ten months of missing Nam Woohyun, I knew, I had to learn to be true to my own feelings. I wanted to feel happy and I felt that I deserved to be happy too; after so much that went through in my life, I deserved to be happy too.  
  
And for now, Nam Woohyun was my happiness.  
  
“I missed you,” I said again, when Nam Woohyun did not reply. “I missed you so much that I cry myself to sleep, that I don’t take my meals on time, that I work myself like crazy so that I don’t think about you. I dream over and over again of how we can meet again. Every day, on my way to work, I think of how you will appear in my life again, will it be that you are a new colleague? Will it be that you are a client that I’ve yet to meet? Will it be that you work in the same building as me? I think about it everyday but when you finally appear in front of me, I don’t know what to do because this is not the meeting that I anticipated. Yet I feel so happy, to have you in front of me, sitting here with me in a foreign land, under the sun, talking this out because I know if I don’t see you soon I will go crazy. I regret over and over again, for letting you go, for pretending that I don’t love you the way you love me, for pretending that I can continue on with my life, the life that I want, without you. But-,” I paused and looked at Nam Woohyun. “But I now know that I want you back in my life and even if I’m not making any sense right now, you just need to know that I missed you and that I want you back in my life.”  
  
And that was when Nam Woohyun smiled. I never realised this before, but Nam Woohyun had a very infectious smile and even if I was blushing like crazy, I smiled at him too.  
  
“Let’s go,” he stood up and grabbed my hand and a beer bottle and put it into mine. “Let’s go play our afternoon away,” he said with a smile. And I nodded. And I followed him. And I was happy that he was back in my life.  
  
And suddenly, ‘Red Lantern’ did not seem so pretentious after all. For it was to me, a reunion, a reunion with Nam Woohyun and that made it more genuine than anything else in this world.


	8. Chapter 8

☂ Sunggyu

题记 (foreword) ▲  
_I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. _  
– Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

For most Koreans, the biggest festivals are probably Seollal and Chuseok. But for me, Winter Solstice brings back so many more memories that it is without a doubt that it is a more important festival to me.  
  
My first memorable Winter Solstice was in 1997. When I was younger, I once spent a period of my childhood in China. It was the aftermath of the 1997 IMF crisis in its worst days and my father has had no work for months. Without knowing what to do with two school-age children, my parents sent my sister and I to our maternal grandmother, only to have her suggest that we go to China to live with my youngest aunt for a while.  
  
It was the winter of 1997 and the day we landed in China, Winter Solstice. Had it been any other Winter Solstice, we would be sitting at home, slurping on the red bean soup and rice balls my mother would have made. Instead we were away from home, away from our parents, huddled up in my aunt’s house slurping on sweet rice ball soup and savoury dumpling soup which her housemate had made for us. I had not appreciated it at that time, for I yearned to go home to my parents more than anything, but in the winter of 1998, when we had the rice ball soup and dumpling soup for one last time before going back to Jeonju, it was probably the best thing I would have for a very long time.  
  
When we went back to Korea and we found temporary homes in other people’s houses, I realised that it was still our little apartment before the IMF crisis and my aunt’s place in China which I called home for it was only at these places that I found warmth and comfort.  
  
Many years down the road, I can still remember the taste of that dumpling soup which I had tried so hard to find again to no avail. But I had come to the realisation that I would never find anyone else’s dumpling soup to be as good as what I had at my aunt’s place, just like how no version of red bean soup is as good as my mother’s, for it is about the soul that was poured into the soup and not the ingredients or seasoning.  
  
On Winter Solstice in 1997, I found some warmth in a stranger’s savoury dumpling soup in a foreign land; it was a warmth I never managed to find from a stranger in my country in the years following.

{ - - - }

때로는 이 길이 멀게만 보여도  
_Even if sometimes this road looks long_  
서글픈 마음에 눈물이 흘러도  
_Even if we feel sad and tears are falling_  
모든일이 추억이 될 때까지  
_Until everything becomes memories_  
우리 두 사람 서로의 쉴 곳이 되어  
_The two of us will become each other’s shelter_  
서툴고 또 부족하지만  
_Even if (we’re) awkward and lacking_  
언제까지나 곁에 있을게  
(We will) always be at (each other’s) side  
모진 바람 또 다시 불어와도  
_Even if the the harsh wind blows again_  
우리 두 사람 저 거친 세월을 지나가리  
_The two of us will get past the rough times_  
▲ 두 사람, 성시경

When we came back from the neighbouring town, I found out that Nam Woohyun stayed in a completely different block of villas from mine, one that was many blocks away from mine along the beach, which was probably why we never saw each other before I ventured out of my villa.  
  
It felt somewhat surreal to sit beside him on the patio of my villa, letting the cool evening sea breeze blow at us mercilessly. It reminded me of Busan, of our morning on Gwanganri beach, of the time I last saw him ten months ago.  
  
We sat in silence for a while but I felt like I should talk about something. Not that the silence was uncomfortable, but it felt more like now that I had opened up to my feelings, I wanted to do more for this person. I wanted him to understand me more and I wanted to share my feelings and my past with this person. Not knowing what to say, I told him about my favourite Winter Solstices, about the dumpling soup in my memory and about my ten months in Seoul.  
  
He never said anything as I talked, just started holding my hand in his from some point in time. It was warm and despite the increasingly cold wind blowing at us, I was very comforted by the fact that he was with me here in Danang.  
  
“It’s Winter Solstice today,” Woohyun said out of nowhere when we fell into comfortable silence again. I nodded and smiled at the sea in front of me, “That’s why I chose today of all days to venture out of this lonely villa.”  
  
“I love Winter Solstice so much that when I was 15 and we finally had our own home again, I told myself that I would never let myself feel sad on another Winter Solstice again,” I continued when Woohyun did not reply.  
  
“I’m glad that I ventured out today; it’s probably the most brilliant decision I made in a while.” Woohyun smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Sometimes I miss our conversations, do you ever feel the same way?” I asked.  
  
“Believe me, I miss it more than I miss my parents,” Woohyun replied with a straight face.  
  
“Silly, that’s because you often see your parents so you won’t miss them as much,” I smiled. “Absence makes the heart fonder.”  
  
“I should know, I survived ten months without you and now my heart is more fond of you than ever,” Woohyun said as a smile creeped up onto his face.  
  
“You're being a sweet talker again,” I said, rolling my eyes for dramatic effect, much to Woohyun’s amusement. “You’re cute,” he said to my displeasure.  
  
“You can’t describe a guy with the word ‘cute’!” I proclaimed as Woohyun laughed even louder. “You’re horrible,” I said and pulled him into a deep kiss in an attempt to shut him up, the way he did it to me at the beach in Busan.  
  
In the end, it does not matter whether or not you are a horrible person or if I am the horrible one, because as long as I am willing to be by your side and you are willing to be by mine, that would suffice for us. Even if my love would cost me everything that I have, I would still painstakingly take the effort to love you, simply because you love me too, just as much as I love you.


End file.
